


An Open Secret

by BrenanaBread



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Secret Admirer, Secret Valentine, ml valentines exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrenanaBread/pseuds/BrenanaBread
Summary: Marinette has a secret admirer for Valentine's Day





	An Open Secret

Adrien isn’t sure when it began, but he knows exactly which moment he became aware.

She had wrapped a purple scarf around Alya’s neck, playfully tickling her nose with the end of it. The girls giggled and Nino whined about how Marinette was stealing his girlfriend. She in turn pulled him down by the shoulders to place a kiss on his cheek before swatting him on his jaw with a pair of soft, blue mittens she’d made for him, laughing when he squealed with glee at the present.

Finally she’d turned to him, pulling out a forest green hat.

He looked down in amazement, fingers touching it lightly, reverently. He dipped his neck, pulling the beanie over his hair, and she smiled as the pom-pom at the top flopped from side-to-side. 

When he thanked her for her thoughtfulness, her cheeks flamed pink and he knew, he _knew_. 

He’d fallen hopelessly in love with her.

________________________________

Every time he sees her face, he can feel his heart thrum louder in his chest, steadily increasing the closer she gets to him, a metal detector threatening to betray his most heavily guarded secrets.

When she smiles at her friends, his insides warm and his muscles relax, content to see her happy and loved by those she cares for most.

When she smiles at _him_ , his spine tingles and fingers twitch, aching to reach out and touch her shoulder. His feet become restless and his face heats, a telling blush crossing his skin and traveling up to the tips of his ears.

On February 8th, he realizes he can’t stand it any longer.

It’s all too much for him. He sees red and pink roses arranged as hearts every time he walks by the flower shop, slowing his steps to admire them only for a moment. His cheeks always leap past a light blush and go straight to burning scarlet when the florist whistles _La Vie en Rose_ with a knowing smile and tosses him a wink. 

He’s seen clusters of heart-shaped balloons floating through the sky and bouncing along the Champs-Élysée, restaurants decorated with frills and flowers and candles, and paintings bathed in warm lighting, depicting lovers in Paris as the sun sets on Montmartre.

He can’t hold it in any more.

Not when Marinette comes to class with a tin of cookies. They’re all shaped like hearts, decorated with brightly colored frosting and sprinkles, and she doles them out to him, Alya, and Nino.

They eat and laugh together at lunch and their mouths get tainted red and pink, crumbs sticking to lips and falling through the slits in the tabletop.

Marinette reaches out and gently takes hold of Adrien’s jaw, clearing his face of excess cookie bits.

It’s a sweep of her thumb, and he’s lost.

His eyes unfocus and all he can concentrate on is the soft pad of her finger, the warmth transferred from her body to his through this tiny connection.

He can’t contain himself a moment more.

He races home, a fabricated excuse of homework left on his bed tossed over his shoulder to appease his questioning friends.

Frantically shuffling through his room, he throws his bag on the ground and falls to his desk, haphazardly opening and slamming shut drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. A thin piece of shiny, red paper.

He writes her a simple note, taking care to curl each letter with precision and elegance, a stark contrast to his quick, jerky movements from mere seconds before.

_Your thoughtfulness and care_  
_Glow like the stars in your eyes_  
_The blush that stains your cheeks_  
_Lends my stomach butterflies_  
_For far too long I’ve seen_  
_Your radiance and your shine_  
_Without asking the question_  
_Will you be my Valentine?_

_-A Secret Admirer_

His nose crinkles as he swiftly reads it over while slinging his bag over his shoulder and hopping out of his room.

“It’s really cheesy,” Plagg says peeking out the collar of his shirt. “And not the good kind.”

Adrien huffs. “I know, but it’s the best I could come up with this quickly. And I don’t think I said anything that would make her uncomfortable…”

“Everything’s creepier when you don’t know who it’s from,” Plagg points out. “For all she knows, you’re a low-level serial killer with a shrine dedicated to her freckles.”

“She does have fantastic freckles,” Adrien jokes.

“Gross,” Plagg whines, ducking back into his hiding spot while Adrien smirks.

He sprints to school, note pressed between his chest and a binder, and ducks behind a garbage can as he avoids his friend’s line of vision. They stand in front of Marinette’s locker, Alya gently teasing her friend for taking so long to change her books.

Filling his lungs with more air than necessary, Adrien hops out from behind his hiding spot and loudy greets his friends, taking the time to wrap his arms around each of them in a tight hug individually. 

He saves Marinette for last, lightly winding one arm around her waist. She laughs, folding him in a warm embrace, bringing their bodies flush together. He takes the opportunity to hook his chin over her shoulder and his free hand casually drops the note in her locker before he brings it around to rest on her shoulders, squeezing gently. Her laughter turns into a small shriek when he lifts her feet off the ground, one hand spreading wide on her waist as he does a half-turn with her legs swinging in the air.

When he places her back on the ground, ignoring Alya and Nino’s knowing looks, he uses his hip to knock her locker door shut, keeping his note safely locked inside before she can see it.

Day one of his plan completed, his shoulders relax as the four walk into class together, three of them groaning about chemistry lectures, and one plotting his next move.

________________________________

On February 9th, Adrien furthers his status as a stereotypical, Valentine’s Day-hopeful, secret admirer. 

He carefully checks the backs of every box he can find, until he stumbles upon one that has all her favorites. It’s a box of chocolates, surrounded in ruby red, plastic wrapping, shaped like a heart and packed with treats filled with raspberry and caramel, coconut and coffee cream, peanut butter and strawberry, anything he can remember her mentioning over the years.

He attaches a note in the same shiny, red paper he used the day before.

_A sweetheart for the sweetest heart_

During class, when Marinette jumps up out of her seat and darts out the door at the sound of an akuma attack, Adrien uses his classmates’ confusion and clamor to sneak the box into her backpack, unzipped and hanging open at the foot of her chair.

He hasn’t heard her talk to anyone about her secret admirer yet.

He hopes she likes the chocolates.

He hopes she likes him.  
________________________________

On February 12th, Adrien carries in his pocket an origami heart, painted a light pink with a circle of string taped to its back.

He still remembers that first time his mother burst into his room, arms filled with paper, scissors, paint, and glitter, and dumped them onto his floor.

She pulled him down by the hand until he fell next to her and told him they were going to make a Valentine’s Day card for every single person who worked in their home.

She taught him how to make each piece of paper into a perfect square first, before demonstrating the quick steps to making the origami hearts.

He followed along happily, not even upset that his mother’s pile grew much faster than his. He liked not having to compete with someone for a change.

They moved onto painting the hearts various shades of red and pink, dumping glitter on the wet spots and making a mess.

Adrien had never had so much fun. 

That became their tradition. 

Until, one year, it wasn’t.

Adrien hadn’t made a card since she was gone. It never felt right.

But this year, things changed. He wanted to try again.

He deconstructed old valentines to remember the process, and spent far too long making far too many valentines until he finally got the proportions just right.

His fingers trace along the edge of the valentine as he checks behind him for the millionth time, making sure no one from school has followed him.

He walks up to the little flower shop he sees every day and buys a single, red rose, much to the florist's amusement.

He wraps the string around the rose, tying it to the origami heart, and hiding it under his overshirt.

He leaves the valentine taped to Marinette’s locker for when she returns from lunch and jumps out of sight.

________________________________

On February 13th, Adrien gets to class earlier than he ever has before.

The classroom is empty, and the hallway has only faint chatter from the few students and faculty milling about.

He lets out a breath of relief. He figured if there were a day he was going to be caught, it would be on the 13th, his unlucky number.

He closes the classroom door behind him as he enters the room, leaving the lights off. He takes out a soft, black cat stuffed animal and lays it on Marinette’s half of her and Alya’s bench. Around the kitten’s neck, he ties a makeshift collar. A tiny bell he ripped off of an old Christmas stocking dangles from the collar’s front, and on the back he attaches a note.

_Wishing you a purrfect day_

He runs out of the classroom when he finishes and spends the rest of the morning in the library, only coming to class seconds before the final bell rings.

He notices she’s left the cat out on her desk.

He can hear Alya asking her who it’s from.

He feels Marinette’s eyes on the back of his head and hears the smile on her lips when she answers noncommittally.

Excitement rushes through Adrien’s veins.

He’s stunned to think his plan may actually work.

He’s stunned to think she may like him too.

________________________________

He wakes on February 14th to a loud clap of thunder.

Peeking out from beneath his covers, he smiles at the sheets of rain pouring onto the ground, muddling the landscape into a giant, gray blur.

He hops out of bed, and takes out the final piece of his Valentine’s surprise.

On the ride to school, he asks to stop the car at the Dupain-Cheng bakery so that he can drop something off.

He can tell just by the hunch of the Gorilla’s shoulders that he has questions, but he doesn’t pry, only grunting “make it quick,” before unlocking the door.

Adrien clutches the present tightly in one hand as he runs out of the car, hair clumping on his forehead and spilling rainwater down his face.

He leaves his gift leaning on the bakery door, only slightly protected from the downpour, narrowly avoiding being seen by Marinette’s parents.

He tilts his head back and opens his arms, inviting the rain to drench him for a brief, blissful moment before heading back to his car.

Just as his hand touches the car door, he hears the tinkling of a bell, and the soft crash of nylon and plastic against concrete.

“Adrien?” a voice calls, and he thinks his heart has either stopped, or is beating too rapidly to tell each _thump_ apart.

He turns around and his eyes are caught in her blue, questioning irises as she stands in the bakery doorway, unsure how to proceed.

“Marinette,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, bending at the waist to pick up the fallen gift. “Is this yours?”

He pauses for a moment before taking a step towards her. “No, it’s yours.”

She lightly runs her hand along the shaft, hooking her hand into the handle, and opens the canopy.

“You’ve got to stop giving me your umbrellas,” she jokes.

“Look inside.”

She closes her eyes and steps out into the rain, holding the umbrella above her head and motioning for him to come closer.

“Only if you get in here too. It’s pouring.”

Adrien obliges, ducking underneath the rim, bringing their faces close together.

She opens her eyes, but they stay transfixed on his face, mouth open as if the breath was sucked from her lungs. She watches a droplet trail down along the slope of his nose and dissipate on his upper lip.

Adrien clears his throat and extends his index finger, pointing up.

Marinette tilts her head back and her sharp intake of breath brings their bodies close enough to lightly brush.

Adrien shivers from the touch.

The inside of the umbrella is decorated with painted hearts. As the light from a nearby lamppost shines through them, they seem to light up and faintly sparkle, casting splotches of her face and hand in a pink and red hue.

Hanging from one of the stretchers is a narrow strip of plastic, protecting a hidden note.

She pulls it towards her face and as she reads his words aloud, his face flames.

_“I have been told before_  
_That I’m too inclined to pine_  
_As I relish and adore_  
_How our lives deeply intertwine_  
_So, here I ask you candidly_  
_No puns and no punchline_  
_Just the final, vital question_  
_Will you be my Valentine?_

_-Your secret admirer, Adrien Agreste"_

When she finishes, they both fall silent

Adrien holds his breath and steadfastly looks at the ground, eyes trailing along a crack in the sidewalk.

He waits for a response, anything to pull him out of this trance. He can’t move. 

“Yes.”

It’s a short and clear word, and he’s found. 

“Yes?” he clarifies, a smile growing on his face wide enough that he fears it may split in two.

Marinette’s enthusiastic nod shakes the umbrella, tiny dots glittering on her face from the movement. The canopy knocks into his head a bit and water showers down on his back but he doesn’t care at all.

He scoops Marinette into a hug, one hand wrapped around her waist and one cupping the back of her head.

“Of course I’ll be your Valentine,” she mumbles into his neck, hugging him close and letting the umbrella droop to the side, drenching them. “I’ll always be your Valentine.”

She pulls back from his body for only a moment before bringing a wet hand up to his face, thumb trailing along his cheek in a featherlight touch.

She raises herself to her tippy toes and he bends to meet her halfway, lips grazing in the gentlest of kisses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, and she can feel the vibrations from his voice on her lips.

She answers with another kiss, sealing them together at last.

**Author's Note:**

> In defense of the poems...the ones from dark cupid were really bad...and I think these were way better....
> 
> Hang out with me on tumblr at [jattendschaton.tumblr.com](https://jattendschaton.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
